


creators and ravens

by LadyPrince



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Fantasy, Gen, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-14 02:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18043955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyPrince/pseuds/LadyPrince
Summary: In which Jack is the creator, Nisha is war, and Rhys is listening.





	creators and ravens

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and published on tumblr. All stories in this are exactly 100 words [regardless of what the wordcount on AO3 says; they were all 100 words exactly on MS Word].
> 
>  **Original publish date:** 4th of February, 2016.
> 
> This drabble collection actually got fanart for it, but I can't find it anymore. If you do find it, good on you and please do show me.

Today, the sky is pink. There are rose petals in the sky, and the stars are the softest white. The people walk under the pink sky, not knowing the difference from yesterday. Or the fact that yesterday never was.

There are trees with fading yellow bark, and leaves so purple they blind. And yet the people admire and coo at their infinite beauty.

Rhys sits under one of those trees, a basket of red apples in his lap, and he gives them out to all the people staring in wonder and awe.

Tomorrow, Jack kills the world again, and regrows.

* * *

There is fire in the sky, and Nisha is riding on a jagged horse of bones and diamonds. She raises her banner and blood decorates the blackened dirt. Bones are crushed beneath her horse’s hooves, and Rhys holds close to his chest a plagued child. He sits atop the corpse of the girl’s mother, covered in debris and waste.

Jack rides on after Nisha, his horse of diamonds and one sapphire, and he waves the scythe while Nisha waves the axe. They kill and they kill, and the blood splashes on far too many people.

Today, the sky is pink.

* * *

An emerald sun glows in pale blue, paler than the snow, and Rhys is feeding the starving while Jack fumes in the back of his head. Man admires the carrots shaped like apples, and the grapes that taste too sour and bitter.

They suckle on lemons so sweet, and bake cakes with grapefruit taste. He gives the children pineberries and lemonade, and they all look at him with wide eyes and Rhys is smiling.

Jack is fuming, and Rhys’s head is full of smoke. An orphan matron, Janey, fights back against the regrowing world.

Nisha strikes her down with ease.

* * *

Sunflowers face away from the sun, their scents laced with poison and Rhys watches as Timothy, created only to praise God, leads them to the meadow with a saddened gaze.

Corpses line the dirt and fertilize the flowers, and soon Nisha is coming to collect their bones to make armour and their skulls to use as cups. She offers him the strongest ale from her haven, and Rhys declines even when his belly is being filled with her alcohol.

Jack drinks as well, laughing uproariously for eleven days and ten nights, before he decides he hates this new world too.

* * *

Vaughn carries a hammer with him, far too large for his slight form, and Sasha carries with her an axe and shield. Fiona is the only one with poisoned daggers, and Rhys follows after them like a phantom and gives to them healing potions to help them save their world.

They meet Wilhelm, Nisha’s newest warrior, and they struggle and fight until Rhys presses his hands – gold and flesh – through Wilhelm’s throat and poisons his insides.

He crumbles with one final strike by Sasha, and Jack tears the flesh from his bones.

They die, but Rhys makes them come back.

* * *

She comes to the people of the changing world with sweet smiles, and Rhys greets her with unease. Angel, she calls herself, and places her hands upon her chest. Wings grow and spawn from her back, bathed in her blood and tears, and the world accepts her as their leader when she tells the story of Jack.

Many worship him, despite how he destroys, and many worship Nisha, despite the fact that she drinks from their skulls and wears them as her armour.

Angel bathes herself in blackened gold, and Jack is calm when she speaks. Rhys doesn’t know why.

* * *

Lilith brings with her the storm. Her fingers glow as she flies alongside the riding white knight, Roland, and Brick is pure muscle and destruction as he breaks his way through Nisha’s walls. Mordecai watches; bow and bird at the ready, and Rhys thinks they can handle themselves.

A burst of white light embraces them, and Lilith is faced with a winged friend. Hands sink into her spine, and she fades away to dust.

Wherever Angel’s wings touch, they all fade to dust and crumble, and Mordecai limps away with a missing arm and leg.

Rhys carries him to safety.

* * *

Today, no one comes out. The sky is the sweetest purple, and the moon the softest light. The trees sway with the gentle air, pink leaves hiding away pineberries and bark housing squirrels. A statue of Jack sits in the middle of the town, and people leave gifts and money in the fountain around it.

A bird sits on Rhys’s head; there is blood on its beak, and a sharp intense look in its eyes. She sits and sits and stares, and Rhys smiles at the people that come up to him.

He gives them all strawberries; a sweet rarity.


End file.
